


The Morning Adventures of Seongseong and Hongjoong-ah

by Umbrella_Supremacist



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa - Freeform, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Mental Health Issues, designer!hongjoong, kang yeosang is the devil, kim hongjoong is a sweetheart, publisher!Seonghwa, seonghwa is a grump, side Yunho/Mingi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-09 15:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18641068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umbrella_Supremacist/pseuds/Umbrella_Supremacist
Summary: A series of stories about Seonghwa and Hongjoong, set during their mornings together as the sweetest couple in existence. Seonghwa is an editor at a publishing firm and also a writer of poetry and novels. Hongjoong is a freelance designer. Yeosang is Seonghwa's childhood friend and boss.Side couples include: Yunho/Mingi, Wooyoung/San, Yeosang/Jongho and past Seonghwa/Yeosang. Some chapters may explore these relationships.Some heavy petting, but no smut for now. May change depending on how I grow as a writer





	1. Good Morning!

**Author's Note:**

> I have been reading a lot of lovely Seonghwa and Hongjoong fics and I've fallen love with this pairing. I began to write this while waiting for a flight at the airport so not sure how it is. It's actually my first fic ever. 
> 
> Going to do a series of stories, mostly domestic fluff centering on Hongjoong and Seonghwa, maybe explore other characters too sometimes in this AU.
> 
> Will edit tags and rating as appropriate :)

"Hey baby boy, rise and shine! You don't want to oversleep and be late for your shift again do you? Not after Yeosang chewed you out in front of Sanie and Wooyoungie last time, right?"

Moaning softly as he groggily wiped the sleep from his eyes, Seonghwa was faced with Hongjoong's impish smile staring down at him as he sat up on his right. To his left, an alarm clock was blaring fitfully from the bedside table next to their new king-size bed. Seonghwa burrowed into his soft marshmallow of a pillow, tiredly reflecting that the very reason he had insisted that they buy this bigger bed was precisely because he was sick of Hongjoong kicking him awake as he rolled around early in the morning. The whole point of the larger bed was so that Seonghwa could get more sleep and prepare himself for his busy day running around Yeosang’s publishing office doing all the busy-work that his younger boss (and childhood pal) couldn’t be bothered doing.

Getting the bigger bed was also supposed to help Seonghwa escape from Hongjoong's incessant desire to wake him up too early. _So much for that masterful plan_ , he thought to himself.

Grunting slightly, Seonghwa reached over to the nightstand and slammed the snooze button on the alarm clock. He gazed grumpily at the clock face to see that, yet again, Hongjoong had set the alarm at least an hour earlier than (what Seonghwa deemed) necessary. Seriously, Seonghwa sometimes questioned his decision to get together with a hyper-active, morning person when he himself was a veritable night owl.

"Just half an hour more," Seonghwa mumbled as he rolled over and away from Hongjoong so that he could avoid looking at the pout growing on his boyfriend's face. _So our morning game begins_ , he reflected as he wrapped himself up tightly in their new down blanket. It was like sleeping in a big fluffy cloud… how exactly could Hongjoong want to ruin that!?

"After two years, two whole years of living with me, you still haven't been able to match my sleep schedule?" Hongjoong huffed as he shuffled over to wrap his arms around his boyfriend's broader shoulders. He playfully poked Seonghwa’s side, causing the older boy to grunt in annoyance. "Seriously, though,” Hongjoong continued, “when you asked me out all those years ago, you promised to give me unlimited hugs every morning and every night! If I had known you would devolve back into a sleep-deprived, moody teenager each day I probably would have said no when you asked me to be your boyfriend!"

Seonghwa shook his head grumpily as a small kernel of guilt began to gnaw away at his stomach. How did Hongjoong always manage to guilt him like this every single morning? "I made those promises way before I started working long-ass shifts at Yeosang's hellscape of a publishing house," Seonghwa stated through a particularly wide yawn. “Cut me some slack, won’t you? I’m so tired!”

Hongjoong lightly slapped Seonghwa on his shoulder in mock disgust. "That shouldn't matter! You made a promise and I'm calling you out on it. I don't see you all day and it can be super lonely working here at home so I need my hugs now."

Seonghwa couldn’t see what Hongjoong was doing behind him, having strategically maneuvered to face away from his boyfriend, but he was 100% sure that Hongjoong was sulking now, his trademark puppy dog eyes and pout getting a good workout.

With an exasperated sigh, Seonghwa rolled over and nuzzled his face into the crook of Hongjoong's neck and dainty shoulder. He also threw his leg over Hongjoong's slim waist and pulled the slender man into a loose hug. In the back of his mind, he realized (as he did every morning) that Hongjoong had a point.

"If I hug you, will you let me sleep a bit more, baby?" he muttered into Hongjoong's neck, adding a quick kiss for good measure (knowing full well that Hongjoong's neck was extra sensitive and easily exploited when Seonghwa wanted to get his way).

Hongjoong sighed happily, kissing the crown of Seonghwa's head and grinning slightly when his boyfriend's platinum blond hair tickled his nose. “That’s more like it,” he sighed contentedly as he finally received the morning hugs he had been waiting for.

After a few minutes of hugging, and as Seonghwa's breathing began to even out as the slightly older man slipped back into the world of dreams, Hongjoong gave his shoulder another gentle shake.

"You look like the cutest koala bear, Seongseong," he whispered as he began to cover his boyfriend's head with light kisses yet again.

Seonghwa grinned to himself secretly, mentally cooing over just how lucky he was to have such a cute and loving boyfriend. But before Hongjoong could notice his small smile, Seonghwa broke away from their hug to give his partner a grumpy pout.

"Hongjoong-ah, please just let me sleep some more..." he sighed in feigned exasperation, but Hongjoong was well aware that their usual morning game had now commenced in earnest.

"What's the point?" Hongjoong laughed, pushing Seonghwa onto his back and clambering on top of the older man so he could straddle his hips. "You're already awake now, so I want my hugs and kisses."

Seonghwa rolled his eyes before reaching his right hand behind Hongjoong's neck to lightly gather together the strands of the other boy’s longer hair. With a slight smirk, he pulled Hongjoong's face downwards and locked their lips together with practiced ease. _I guess_ , he thought to himself, _it’s time to stop the play acting and give Hongjoong-ah what he deserves_.

His eyes fluttering closed with delight, Hongjoong sighed contentedly into the kiss, bringing his own hands together in front of him to gently cup Seonghwa's cheeks. Seonghwa, his eyes open so he could take in the breathtaking sight of his boyfriend losing himself in pleasure, shifted his hand from the back of Hongjoong’s neck and wrapped his arms lazily around his shoulders in a gentle hug. As Hongjoong continued to groan softly and happily, Seonghwa began to lick his tongue against Hongjoong's lips, communicating to the slender boy that he wished to deepen their kisses.

Hongjoong happily complied, opening his lips to allow Seonghwa to slide his tongue inside and begin exploring his boyfriend's warm mouth. Both boys strategically ignored their morning breath (and really, after four years together, that was the kind of thing that the two men had long gotten over!) as they began to run their tongues across each other, their kisses moving from slow and lazy to deep, passionate and frenzied in no time at all. Soon Seonghwa was nipping playfully at Hongjoong’s bottom lip, causing his boyfriend to literally purr in pleasure like the adorable kitten that Seonghwa had always likened his boyfriend to in his secret poetry journal when he was feeling particularly amorous.

Seonghwa soon felt warmth grow in the pit of his stomach, and heat soon shifted below his waist to cause the older boy to become slightly more worked up. He could feel a similar shift in Hongjoong as the slender boy’s cock hardened and he began to slowly rut against Seonghwa’s own stiffening member. Growling softly with arousal, Seonghwa began to slowly run his hands gently along the soft, sensitive skin to the sides of Hongjoong's chest and belly, subtly tickling the other boy to push him further into ecstasy. He also began to kiss the slender boy squirming above him  more deeply, their kisses becoming messier as their desires became more feverish.

Hongjoong reacted to Seonghwa’s ministrations with a groan, breaking off the kiss to stare down at Seonghwa with a dark hunger in his eyes. For his part (and forgetting that just moments ago, he had been complaining about wanting more sleep), Seonghwa looked up at Hongjoong, who was panting slightly due to the intensity of their kisses, with a smirk. The platinum blond-haired boy then began to lazily suck hickeys into Honjoong’s shoulders, causing the younger man to to mutter curses as he lost his mind to arousal. In the back of his desire-addled brain, Seonghwa chuckled to himself. This will show Hongjoong what happens when he gets between him and his much-needed sleep!

It was at this moment, just as Seonghwa had wrapped the strands of Hongjoong’s mullet into his fist and was preparing to ravish the younger man, that his phone, sitting on the charger next to their alarm clock, began blaring fitfully.

Both Hongjoong and Seonghwa stared at each other in shock, blinking in surprise as they processed what was happening. Their breath began to slow as they panted in frustration, knowing that they had to stop just as they were reaching the good stuff. With a muffled “fucking hell,” falling from his lips in annoyance, Hongjoong reached over to Seonghwa’s phone and grabbed it. He handed it quickly to Seonghwa with an eyebrow quirked in curiosity. "Who is it?" he mouthed quietly.

Seonghwa, his cock slowly and regretfully softening, unlocked his phone (in the process, hiding the lockscreen photo of Hongjoong during a recent holiday to Moscow) and glared at the caller ID with unabashed irritation. _Who the fuck dared to interrupt me just as I was about to give Hongjoong-ah all the love and attention that he deserves_ , he thought to himself. But, upon seeing who was calling him, his anger was quickly replaced with a churning anxiety.

“It’s fucking _Yeosang_!”

Seonghwa groaned as Hongjoong slid off from on top of him and rolled out of bed, giving his boyfriend a brief look of slightly frustrated sympathy (he was still horny after all) before heading to the kitchen to prepare the strong black coffee that Seonghwa needed to fortify himself before a long shift at Kang Editions, the publishing company at which he worked.

Quickly answering the call, Seonghwa grunted, "What do you want? I'm already up and yes, before you start, I did manage to get that philosophy professor at Yonsei… um, what's his name? Kim Namjoon-ssi? Anyways... I got him to sign that fucking author contract! It's still early and I've got another fucking hour before I need to leave so-"

"Hey, hey, hey! Whoah! Good morning to you too, Seonghwa-hyung!" Yeosang cut in, chuckling.

Seonghwa gulped, his eyes widening. Yeosang chuckling happily was not normal, not at all. It couldn't be a good sign.

"Ummm... S-so what's wrong then?" Seonghwa stammered out, the fire leaving his voice as the churning anxiety in his belly took hold over his thoughts.

"Oh, I was just calling to let you know that there's been a burst water main in our building and the lobby and carpark have flooded," Yeosang stated, and Seonghwa could just picture the younger man's shit-eating grin. "So I decided to give everyone the day off while the plumbers sort it all out... But since you seem _so eager_ to bring in Kim Namjoon-ssi's author contract... and I doubt you were up to anything productive or particularly pressing this morning, right?... well, maybe you _could_ come around to my place and help me get started with the new audit of our upcoming list? We have some new translations of French poetry and I thought you'd enjoy cataloguing them, maybe?" Yeosang then began to snigger evilly.

Seonghwa literally screeched in terror. "N-no! No! That's okay, um... That's fine, yeah. No problem! Um.. What!? A day off? Really!?" Seonghwa answered back, flustered. "Wow, thank you Yeosangie, really!" _Man, it’s way too early and I’m_ way too _turned on for his shit_ , he thought to himself.

Yeosang began laughing in earnest now, clearly enjoying having flustered Seonghwa again (it was, by this point in their long relationship, a common occurrence and, as Yeosang would put it, the cornerstone of their friendship). "Oh my god, Seonghwa-hyung, you are just too cute!" he cackled. "Stay home and treat Hongjoong-hyung to a good time and I'll see you in the office with that author contract tomorrow."

And, with a last cackle, Yeosang hung up, leaving Seonghwa to stare at his phone in exasperated confusion.

"What the fuck just happened?" he muttered to himself.

It was at this point that Hongjoong returned to their bedroom carrying a steaming mug of black coffee (no sugar whatsoever!) in one hand and a milky (and no doubt intolerably sweet) cup of tea in the other. He sauntered over to the bed, set the mugs down on the sideboard, and looked down at Seonghwa with a slightly worried frown.

"So what did the slave driver want today, baby boy?" he queried.

Seonghwa blinked at his phone for a few more moments in shock, before giving his head a shake and tossing his phone to the side. He then reached out and wrapped an arm around Hongjoong, who promptly let out a squawk of surprise as Seonghwa pulled him back into bed.

"I've got the day off," he stated matter-of-factly to Hongjoong as he began to kiss his neck once more, "so I guess you're going to be getting a whole lot of those morning hugs today after all." He then smirked, “and I _guess_ we can pick up where we left off. Things were getting pretty interesting, after all.”

Hongjoong pulled back quickly from Seonghwa, a huge smile splitting his blushing face in two as he began to laugh in genuine delight.

"God, I love you Seongseong."

"I love you too Hongjoong-ah. So, so much."


	2. The First Morning Adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to a friend who has been going through a bit of a rough patch. Hope this helps cheer you up :)
> 
> there are a few darker themes this time, but plenty of cute fluffy interactions as well

Mornings had recently become a special time for Kim Hongjoong. In fact, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that it was in the mornings when Hongjoong was at his happiest and that the morning was the highlight of the long-haired designer's days. The bright promise that the rising sun brought every day never failed to bring a smile to his lips and a boundless joy to his heart, chasing away the shadows which still sometimes clung to the young man, weighing him down with doubts and worries.

The morning was a time of promise, a time when good things would come to Hongjoong and enrich his life, reminding him to keep doing his best and chasing his dreams. So that was why, every morning after Seonghwa had given him his hugs (and kisses) and then stumbled off to be chased around by that devil Yeosang at work all day, Hongjoong would wander into his little design studio in a happy daze. He would then light a small votive candle (which he kept hidden from Seonghwa to escape his constant teasing over the slender man's penchant for "that weird New Age shit") and offer up a little prayer of thanks to whatever higher power existed out there in the boundless universe to express just how truly grateful he was for the new day which was about to begin.

Of course, mornings hadn't always been such a lovely time in Hongjoong's past. There had been a time when the morning, the dawn of a new day, had been filled with dread and panic. There had been a time when all the morning promised Hongjoong was torment and despair.

Even now, Hongjoong could still remember cold, lonely mornings spent locked away in his room at the decrepit goshiwon he had moved into after he had finally escaped his family home to attend art school in downtown Seoul. He could recall the loneliness and fear which would slither into his soul like wicked snakes to gnaw away at his fragile self-confidence as he cooked his morning meal of cheap ramen (sometimes the only meal he could actually afford to eat, since he had yet to find a job and his savings were almost depleted after his move). _You'll never make it_ , those morning demons whispered deep into his mind as he mechanically slurped up his noodles. _You are nothing, you are literal garbage_.

Some months later, after he had made friends and moved in with Mingi and Yunho, the two loveable goofballs from his art history class, Hongjoong still had to fight off those morning demons each and every day. "Don't worry, hyung," Yunho had whispered as he cuddled Hongjoong on a particularly dark morning as the older man quivered with sobs, "we're here now. Don't worry, I promise it's all going to be okay." But no matter the promises which Mingi and Yunho made, no matter how many times his two taller friends had given him a shoulder to cry on, Hongjoong just hadn't been able to shake away the darkness which plagued him. 

Even more vividly, he could still remember the mornings of pain and anxiety which had he experienced while he completed his military service during a break from his university studies. Sometimes, even now, he would wake with a start in the middle of the night, turning to cling desperately to Seonghwa as the misery of those 21 months of hell invaded his dreams. Back then, in his lonely barracks, Hongjoong would awake every morning fearing that his commander would once again belittle him in front of the others for his slim body and delicate features. His whole experience in the military had been a waking nightmare and the morning demons had come upon him with more vehemence than normal to whisper their insidious hate. Even after he was transferred to a new garrison away from his brutal commander, the mornings were a struggle for Hongjoong's sensitive soul.

The morning demons had been with him for a long time by that point, but he could still recall when they had first began to visit him. It had been when he had still been a gangly teenager, the creative outcast at the all-boys Christian college his aunt had recommended to his parents as "the perfect place to help Hongjoongie settle down and straighten out all that hyperactivity of his. A great place for him to finally fit in." His parents, desperate for their "special boy" to become just like everyone else and finally make some friends had enthusiastically sent him away to live at the academy's dormitory.

The snakes had slithered their way into Hongjoong's mind one morning early in his first year at the middle school as he slowly began to accept that he was different from the other boys, different because he seemed to like guys a lot more than girls. _Don't you know that it's wrong?_ the morning demons would whisper. _Don't you realize this is why no one likes you? Why you'll never have anyone to love you, you sick freak?_

So when exactly did mornings shift from a time of anxiety, a time when it all seemed like it was too much to even bother keeping up the facade? When did the mornings become the literal reason for Hongjoong's existence, the highlight of his day? When exactly did Hongjoong gain the ability to fend off those horrifying morning demons?

The shift was simple really. There was a single moment when the morning became a time of wonder, a moment where he learned that those filthy morning snakes had simply been wrong. Literally everything changed for the better in the slender boy's life in that blessed moment of rebirth, that moment four years ago one wintery morning blustering with snow when Hongjoong had first met Seonghwa. And it was Seonghwa, the beautiful morning angel, who had chased away the darkness that had clutched at Hongjoong's heart for so many years. It was Seonghwa – his Seongseong – who finally made the mornings a time of sunshine and light with his promise of daily morning hugs and kisses.

 

~*~*~*~*~ Four Years Ago ~*~*~*~*~

Going out with Mingi to get hammered the night before a ten hour shift at the tiny café where he had just started working after _finally_ graduating from art school was probably not one of Hongjoong's brightest ideas. But by this point in his life, Hongjoong had come to accept his poor decisions and wear them like badges of pride. Besides, since he had been so incredibly hung-over that morning as he stumbled around his room to get dressed, he had been too exhausted to anxiously worry about what the fuck he was doing with his life. He had simply been too tired to actually think about how working at that shitty café was the exact opposite of how he had pictured his life would turn out when he had run off to Seoul to become the world's greatest fashion designer all those years ago.

After a quick breakfast and a mad dash though the winding alleyways around his apartment, Hongjoong found himself unlocking the front door of the café. With a giant yawn, he stepped inside and quickly headed to the back of house to grab the tacky blue apron and beret that the cranky ajumma who ran the joint insisted he wear because "it's so cute and it'll draw in all the high school girls." Adjusting his glasses after he had shrugged the apron on, Hongjoong dejectedly wandered back into the café and began to wipe down the four tables which constituted the café's only furniture. After adjusting the chairs and fluffing their cushions, Hongjoong sat dispiritedly behind the ancient espresso machine which his boss had apparently bought cheap a few years back. "Take care of that machine, Joong-ah," she would constantly prattle during her quick daily inspections, "It cost a fortune and it's the center of my café dream."

_Great_ , Hongjoong thought glumly as he booted the old beast up, _here I am helping that old bitch out with her dream as I throw mine away_. As he cleaned out the machine’s milk nozzle, he sighed to himself yet again as insidious whispers began to jumble into the back of his mind, threatening to surge out and overwhelm him. Despite his earlier optimism, it seemed that the morning demons had managed to track him down today after all.

He was certain that his friends were getting sick of him complaining about the café, since it was all he would discuss with them over the last few weeks. "Yeah, it’s a shitty job, hyung," Mingi had commiserated the previous night before he had gotten too drunk and then snuck off to grind against Yunho on the dancefloor, trying to act discretely as if Hongjoong hadn't noticed how thirsty for each other his two friends had progressively become lately. "But you can use the money to buy supplies and keep sending in your designs, get yourself an internship at a label or some shit."

_Yeah right_ , Hongjoong laughed to himself as he started arranging the tacky plastic plants on the café's tables, _all that money is going towards rent_. _God only knows what the fuck I was thinking when I signed the lease on that apartment_.

After spending thirty minutes trying to inject some life into the drab little café, it was now 7 o’clock. “Opening time,” Hongjoong muttered to himself. With a sigh of hung-over exasperation, he flipped over the sign on the door to reveal the obnoxious open message written by his boss. He suppressed a shudder as his designer instincts kicked in as his eyes fell on the ugly painting of a teddy bear on the sign that Hongjoong honestly believed had come straight from hell. He then sauntered back behind the counter to wait out his shift.

As usual, no one came in for the first hour or so. "So much for high school girls," Hongjoong groaned as he prepared another watery "extra weak" _café au lait_ for one of the ajummas who visited each morning (a friend of his boss, the only regular clientele stupid enough to visit the terrible café).

It was about three hours into his shift, after a gaggle of his boss's friends had finished up their drinks ("why don't you smile more Hongjoong-ah? I bet the girls wouldn't leave you alone if you put in a bit more effort!") that it happened. At ten o'clock on the dot, as it began to snow fitfully outside, the most beautiful man Hongjoong had ever set his eyes upon ducked into the empty café with a shy smile for the disheveled barista.

The tall black-haired boy was dressed in an over-sized tan coat with deep pockets that had clearly seen better days. Hongjoong assumed he had just stepped into the café in a desperate attempt to escape what looked to be a fairly strong snow storm (after all, who in their right mind would even think of entering such a terrible looking place except to escape the weather?). The slender barista was surprised, then, when the black-haired boy shuffled over to the counter and mumbled out an order for "an extra strong Americano, no sugar."

Hongjoong couldn't help but grin when he realized that the other man was shyly avoiding making eye contact. It was perhaps the first true smile that had graced his face that day (and possibly the first one in the last few weeks… excepting his drunken grins from the night before). "One extra strong Americano? That'll be 8000 won please," Hongjoong chirped happily, his dark mood slowly fading away due to the awkward cuteness of the taller boy.

The boy nodded, and then stuffed his hand into one of the pockets on his coat to pull out a crumpled 10,000 won note. After Hongjoong rang up his order and passed him his change, the taller man spun around and flopped down into the only table which sat before the café's grimy window. As Hongjoong began preparing his order (sneaking looks at the handsome customer whenever he was sure the other wasn't looking), the black-haired boy pulled out a small notebook and pen from another coat pocket and began writing, occasionally staring out the window with an anxious look of concentration gracing his face. As Hongjoong busied himself preparing the customer’s order, he missed the furtive glances that the black-haired man subtly sent his way.

A few moments later, Hongjoong brought the Americano over to the other boy. He set it down before the black-haired man and, with a flourish, presented the awkward customer with his receipt. "Hope you enjoy!" Hongjoong said.

"Um th-thanks," the older boy (who Hongjoong was coming to think of as "tall dark and handsome" in the back of his mind) stuttered before returning his attention to his notebook.

For the next hour, the handsome customer sat at his table sipping his coffee and jotting things down in his little leather-bound book (like the coat, it had clearly seen better days and looked to be stuffed full of other random papers). In between serving the parade of ajummas who had resumed swinging by the café, Hongjoong threw his own furtive glances towards the other boy and found himself inexplicably grinning. _At least for once there's an interesting customer in this shithole_ , he thought.

At 11 o’clock, just as Hongjoong was about to be relieved by his boss, who swung by around that time every day so that he could take an early lunch break, the black-haired boy deposited his notebook unceremoniously in one of his coat’s baggy pockets and stood up. He then looked out the window and seemed to notice that the snow had lessened (so much for that snow storm!). He then swept his gaze across the café, and made eye contact with Hongjoong for the first time. The slender barista, who was standing behind the register not doing anything much at all, smiled gently back. The tall customer opened his mouth as if he was about to speak, and then firmly clamped it shut as a look of fear swept across his face. He then reached into his pocket, threw something on his table, and promptly barreled out of the café without a single glance back at Hongjoong. A bit shocked, the slender barista shrugged to himself, realizing that the one thing which had seemed to make work bearable that day had departed. He then shuffled over to the tall boy’s table to collect his coffee cup and tidy up, wondering what exactly the strange boy had intended to say to him.

As he arrived at the table, he noticed that the item which the other man had discarded from his pocket was the crumpled up receipt that Hongjoong had handed him along with his coffee an hour ago. Without thinking twice, Hongjoong reached out his had to grab the small scrunched up slip of paper so he could throw it away along with the used napkin that the tall boy had left behind. But as he picked the receipt up, Hongjoong noticed that black ink was seeping through the back of the wrinkled paper. _There’s something written on this_ , he thought to himself as he cocked his eyebrow with curiosity. Hongjoong quickly smoothed out the receipt and found that the reverse side was covered in neat, minuscule writing.

_I bet you won’t notice this note. It’s just garbage after all. But I’ve seen you working here for a while now – I pass by often and noticed you through the window. I’ve wanted to talk with you for the longest time, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I guess you can tell I’m a bit of an awkward weirdo, huh. I’m a writer, I find it hard to talk to people sometimes. I came in today to chat because my friend bullied me into doing it. But you’re so beautiful and I completely lost my nerve… Maybe one day I’ll be back, but I’m not sure. On the odd chance I do return, please bring me a strawberry frappe. Then I’ll be sure you read the note and actually might want to speak to a loser like me._

The note was signed Park Seonghwa.

Hongjoong stared at the message, blinking with incomprehension. _Beautiful? How can someone who is literally the most beautiful man on this planet think someone as useless as me is beautiful?_ As he was trying to process both the message he had received from the handsome stranger and the churning feeling of happiness growing in his chest, his boss strode into the café. He quickly shoved the note from Seonghwa into his pocket as he turned to give a polite bow to the old crone.

“Hongjoong-ah,” she cried, surging forward to pinch his cheeks, “for once you look cheerful! Did you meet a pretty girl? Or was it me!?” the ajumma then began to cackle loudly.

“I’m always pleased to see you, ma’am,” Hongjoong demurred politely with another boy, desperate to be left alone to re-read the note from the black-haired beauty.

His boss smiled to herself absently. “You truly are such a nice, polite young man… at least when you want to be!” she said as she absently began readjusting her dumpy old pull-over. “Seriously though, I feel like most young people nowadays have no appreciation for old folks like me. I wish more of them were sweet like you.”

“Yes ma’am,” Hongjoong nodded, trying to hide his growing impatience. He was becoming increasingly annoyed that he wasn’t being given the chance to re-read the note from this Park Seonghwa fellow.

“You know, as I was walking here, I bumped into the rude youngster I’ve seen in a long time,” the ajumma snorted, “Some tall kid in this ghastly coat wandering around the station lost in his own little world, his nose lost in some nasty little notebook. What kind of kid walks around writing in a book, not giving way to his elders. God only knows what his parents would think. And, I’ll tell you another thing – hey! Hongjoong-ah! Where are you going!?”

Hongjoong had bolted the minute his boss had mentioned the notebook. Without removing his apron and beret, he pushed passed his boss and threw himself out the door. He then sprinted wildly towards the nearby subway station, his heart fluttering with a sense of hope that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for a very long time. As the snow fell around him, stinging his face, Hongjoong raced along the sidewalk, dodging between the elderly men and women who congregated in this dilapidated district of the Seoul Metropolis. _Please, please, please let him still be there_ , he pleaded desperately with the universe.

Reaching the corner on which the neighborhood’s local convenience store was situated, Hongjoong took a sharp right and found himself facing the stairway down to the subway. And standing next to the stairway, running one of his hands through his black-hair in exasperation as he was speaking on the phone (Hongjoong could make out the loud voice of a young man berating the other boy), was Park Seonghwa.

“Hey!” Hongjoong called out to him, “Hey, Park Seonghwa-ssi!” Hearing his name shouted into the relative quiet of the street, the taller boy to spun around in shock. Having grabbed his attention, Hongjoong then ran up towards the black-haired man and threw himself in front of him.

“Park Seonghwa-ssi!” he yelled again as the other boy stared back at him with his mouth open, his phone slowly lowering away from his ear. “I… I don’t have a frappe but… please let’s talk!” Hongjoong exclaimed. “Please, I’m… my name is Kim Hongjoong and… and I’ve been waiting for you so long… so long, you have no idea.”

Hongjoong felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, “I have no idea how you could have possibly thought I wouldn’t want to talk with you. How could I not? How could I ignore you after you came into that café and made my heart beat for the first time in forever. God, you must think I’m crazy but… Please, Seonghwa-ssi, let me take you to grab that frappe.” Hongjoong paused to catch his breath, the strain of having run all the way finally catching up to him. “I think… I think we have a lot… a lot to talk about.”

Park Seonghwa, a look of confused shock still plastered across his face, quickly hung up his phone and shoved it into one of his coat pockets. Hongjoong stared back eagerly, allowing a shy smile to slowly bloom across his flushed face. And then it happened, the moment which changed his life forever. Park Seonghwa slowly smiled back at Hongjoong, his shyness melting away as a tremendous sense of joy began to flow into the two young men. To Hongjoong, Park Seonghwa’s smile was like the sun rising, and he quickly realized that Seonghwa would finally chase away the dark clouds that had hung about him for most of his life.

“I think I’d like that, yeah…” Seonghwa said, as he reached out his hand in welcome, “I’m pleased to meet you, Kim Hongjoong-ssi. Now, let’s go grab that drink?”

“Yes, let’s.”

~*~*~*~*~Today~*~*~*~*~

Mornings had recently become a special time for Kim Hongjoong. But that wasn’t to say that evenings weren’t special too. Because it was in the evening that Seonghwa would return home from work and the two men could finally spend time together simply bathing in each other’s company, recharging after a long day of either chasing down authors or sitting cooped up in the home office working on a new design prospectus. It was in the evenings when Hongjoong could snuggle up with his tall boyfriend, pull a blanket over them as they lounged on their couch, and watch the crime shows on Netflix that the two men loved so much. Like the morning, the evening was a time when the two renewed their promises to each other, cuddling and kissing away the darkness of the night to create their own personal sanctuary of light.

That evening, Hongjoong had finished up his labors early and left the apartment, setting off to Hongdae where he would be joining Seonghwa on a rare weekday date. It was not a planned rendez-vous, but rather something spontaneous that had been organized a few hours before when Seonghwa had texted his boyfriend to state (with a certain smugness) that “apparently there was something funny in Yeosang’s dosirak, so he left early. I’ll sneak out in a bit too.” With a smile, Hongjoong had sent back a quick “Sure Seongseong, see you at the usual place?” and had spent the last final moments of his working day grinning to himself as his heart did summersaults of joy.

It was a slightly cold night, so Hongjoong had wrapped himself up in a long puffer jacket and fleece scarf. He had walked briskly to the nearby bus station and hopped on the direct line to Hongik University. He spent the majority of the trip touching base with Mingi and Yunho in their group chat, mercilessly teasing the two boys as they sent him pictures of the kitten Yunho had recently adopted. _God, when will those two finally just start dating_ , he thought to himself as he watched a short video of the little kitten climbing all over Yunho as Mingi screamed excitedly in the background over “how cute it is!” (Hongjoong wasn’t sure whether “it” referred to the kitten or Yunho).

In no time at all, Hongjoong found himself in Hongdae, weaving through the crowds of tourists who were eagerly watching the cover dance crews perform the latest hits popular with the kids (he even stopped to take a video of one of the better crews, knowing that Yunho would want to study it later as a potential teaching resource for his new dance school). He soon reached his destination; a cute little café in vogue with the art students in the area which Seonghwa and Hongjoong had recently started visiting after the new intern at Kang Editions, Choi Jongho, had recommended it to Seonghwa during a tough day at work.

Naturally, Seonghwa was already waiting inside, sitting at a table by the window writing into one of his notebooks with a look of determined concentration on his face. It was a familiar sight for Hongjoong now, but every time he saw Seonghwa working on his poetry, his mind traveled fondly back to that beautiful first morning four years ago.

Hongjoong took advantage of the fact that his boyfriend was absorbed in his writing to sneak up to the register and put in an order for their usual. He asked the barista, a young woman named Sunmi who he had gotten to know due to his regular visits (bonding with her by sharing stories of the nightmare café at which he used to work) to write the usual message onto the side of the plastic cup containing Seonghwa’s drink. He watched Seonghwa fondly as Sunmi prepared the drinks, smiling to himself in admiration as he watched his handsome boyfriend absently chew the end of his pen as he contemplated what to write next. _Why is he so cute?_ Hongjoong found him asking himself for possibly the millionth time.

When Sunmi had finished preparing the drinks, she passed them to Hongjoong with a whispered “oppa, fighting!” Hongjong grinned cheekily to himself as he silently snuck over to his boyfriend’s table. Upon reaching it, he stretched his arm over the blond-haired man’s shoulder and placed the strawberry frappe he had bought for him right in front of Seonghwa’s notebook. “Here you go, sir, one strawberry frappe, just as you ordered,” he chirped as Seonghwa spun around with a happy smile splitting his face in two.

“Baby, why didn’t you text me to say you were here?” he exclaimed as Hongjoong took the seat opposite him, “I would’ve come to the bus stop to pick you up!”

“And lose the table?” Hongjoong laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous, Seongseong. Besides, that would have ruined my surprise.” He then gave Seonghwa one of his signature pouts, knowing that it would surely win the blond over quickly.

Seonghwa shook his head with a rueful chuckle and then grabbed the frappe set before him. He lifted it up and peered at the message written in purple ink on the side of the cup. “For my morning angel,” Seonghwa read slowly, before putting the drink back down in front of him. “You really are the cheesiest guy in the world, Hongjoong-ah,” he stated warmly, “I have no idea why I put up with you.”

Hongjoong gave his boyfriend a cheeky grin before starting to drink his own beverage (a royal milk tea). “You put up with me because you love me, you big dope,” Hongjoong replied after taking a huge gulp, “and besides, there’s no way I am the cheesiest man in the world. That title goes to Sanie ever since he ordered that weird ice sculpture of Wooyoung’s face on their one month anniversary.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me of that travesty… Yeosang wouldn’t shut up about it for fucking weeks!” Seonghwa groaned with exasperation, before the two men started laughing in recollection of the “umbrella duo” who made both Yeosang and Seonghwa’s lives at work so chaotic.

The two then naturally began chatting about their day, Hongjoong giggling as Seonghwa recounted the fresh hell that Yeosang had put him through before the younger boy had disappeared due to his unfortunate lunch box (“which, I might add, I am fairly certain was made by Jongho in another useless effort to get Yeosang to notice him,” Seonghwa added slyly).

Later, as the two boys strolled through Hongdae on their way to a movie theatre (“I wanna go watch Endgame, Seongseong!”), Hongjoong took a moment to stare lovingly at his handsome morning prince. _His hair really is like the sun_ , Hongjoong thought to himself tenderly. Yes, Seonghwa was the valiant night who helped Hongjoong battle with his dark thoughts every moment of every day, filling the slender man with a passion and drive which his younger self only dared to dream of as he fought off his insidious morning demons.

Hongjoong soon found himself stopping in the middle of the street, clutching at Seonghwa’s arm so as to turn the older man around to face him. As Seonghwa raised his eyebrows in confusion at his boyfriend, Hongjoong started grinning as the familiar overwhelming happiness that only his partner could bring to his life flooded through him. Reaching up to cup Seonghwa’s cheeks in his graceful hands, Hongjoong stood up on tiptoes and quickly brushed Seonghwa’s lips in the briefest of kisses.

"God, I love you Seongseong," he whispered as a blush started to infuse his cheeks.

Seonghwa smiled, lighting up Hongjoong’s entire world.

"I love you too Hongjoong-ah. So, so much."


	3. Morning Poetry

~*~*~*~*~ Four Years Ago ~*~*~*~*~

"Seonghwa-hyung, you know I love you, right? But for once in your life, could you maybe just fucking grow a pair and actually do something about this? Because I'm getting seriously bored hearing about how beautiful this dude is and how he would never find someone as 'lame as you' interesting every single fucking day! How will you ever know if that's even true if you don't ask him out, for fuck's sake?"  
  
Seonghwa looked away from Yeosang after he had unleashed his tirade, staring at his hands as the younger man kept up with his latest attack.  
  
"Ever since you came out to me in senior high," Yeosang continued in exasperation, "I have been patiently waiting for the day when I would see you happily paired off. At uni, I practically flung all my hottest friends at you, but you were so oblivious that you never noticed. During your military service, I secretly hoped you'd hook-up with some hot commander and come back a little wiser, but I guess that was asking too much. And now? You finally see a guy you crush on hard and you don't do anything about it! All you do is come home and fucking whine at me! Seonghwa-hyung, I don't understand what the problem is... You're awkward, I get it... But you're not _that_ shy!"  
  
"I just..." Seonghwa gulped, then wrapped his hands around himself as he began to feel a little nauseous. "You're right, I've been oblivious in the past and that's why I can't do it. I've never even dated before, not really. And this guy is just so beautiful... I'm sure he's had heaps of boyfriends. How could I live up to that? Maybe he already has someone he's seeing now. Or he could be straight." Seonghwa laughed dejectedly. "I know you find it easy to pick people up, Sangie. God, I still remember when we used 'practice' together back in high school...” he shook his head to dispel those embarrassing memories. “But it's not so easy for me. I just don't have your confidence."  
  
Yeosang nodded, his annoyance diminishing slightly as he realized that his closest friend and best hyung was having a legitimate crisis. "I get that Seonghwa-hyung, I do. But nothing's gonna change if you don't actually put yourself out there and take a fucking risk. You've noticed this cute barista guy and you've got yourself a nice little crush. So go and ask him out. If he shoots you down, you'll survive. Hell, I'll go fuck him up for treating my best bud badly if he rejects you, don't think I won't. But if he says yes? If he says yes, go and put all our practice to use and blow his fucking brains out like you used to do for me."  
  
Seonghwa found himself blushing a little angrily, "Sangie _please_ don't remind me about how much of a desperate, horny teenager I used to be." I’ll never be able to live down those particular mistakes, he groaned internally, although he privately admitted that there were worse people to lose your virginity to than your best friend.

Banishing those embarrassing memories from his mind, Seonghwa ran his hands through his hair as he turned over what Yeosang had said. "I get your point, though. I actually really want to ask him out, you know? I just... I just can't bring myself to do it."   
  
Seonghwa then got up off their tattered old sofa and began to wander through the apartment he was currently sharing with his childhood friend, heading to his bedroom to escape the awkward conversation. _Honestly I don't know why I even bother asking this demon for advice in the first place_ , he thought. _All he does is use it as an opportunity to tease me_. When Seonghwa reached the door of his room, he turned around to stare forlornly back at Yeosang. "I'm gonna work on my poems for a bit to calm down, okay?" _Not like it's gonna help_ , he added to himself.  
  
Yeosang clucked his tongue and shot the taller black-haired man a wan smile, nodding imperceptibly. "But please, Seonghwa-hyung... Please don't leave it too late. You know I'll be moving out soon to go work at dad's company. I won't be able to concentrate on learning how the office works if I'm worried about you suffering all on your own away from me."  
  
Seonghwa nodded back with a tight smile. "Sangie, I... I promise I'll at least go and talk to him sometime soon."  
  
Yeosang shook his head and then pinned Seonghwa with one of his most intense stares. "No, hyung... 'soon' isn't good enough. You'll do it tomorrow morning, even if I have to drag you down there myself."  
  
Seonghwa gulped as his eyes widened with fear. "You wouldn't."  
  
"You wanna bet on that, hyung?" It was clear the younger boy meant business.   
  
The conversation having come to an end, Yeosang got up off their couch and moved into the kitchen. "I'll make dinner," he called as he began peering into the fridge. "Go work on your poems. Better yet, maybe think up a game plan for tomorrow morning." He pulled out some pork and _gochujang_ , giving them both a tentative sniff. "I'll call you when dinner's ready," he dismissed the older man as he began to prepare their meal of _dweji bokkeum_.  
  
With a groan of frustration, and a prayer to the heavens to ask God for what felt like the millionth time just what he had done in his past life to deserve a devil of a best friend like Kang Yeosang, Seonghwa spun into his room and flopped into the large swivel chair before his cluttered desk. He grabbed one of his drafting notebooks, pushing aside the copy of Baudelaire that Yeosang had gifted him when Seonghwa graduated top of the class from his comparative literature major at SNU, and opened it to resume work on his most recent poem.  
  
To be fair, Seonghwa hadn't managed to write much lately and the current poem he was working on was particularly underdeveloped. His creativity seemed to have begun failing him as he struggled with his feelings for the cute barista he had noticed a few weeks ago.   
  
It had been a somewhat overcast morning, a little gloomy but not too cold, when he first saw the beautiful man in his blue apron and beret. Seonghwa had serendipitously noticed the slender man with the burnt orange hair through the window of a tiny little café he had passed on the way to his favorite secondhand bookstore. He remembered the day vividly, as he had been excited since the owner of the store had emailed him the night before to let him know that the first edition of the Czeslaw Milosz he had ordered the previous month had finally arrived ("Why do you even want it?" Yeosang had queried as he played with one of his drones. "It's not like you can read Polish"). Seonghwa had been absently looking through the shopfronts of the stores he walked by as he made his way towards the bookstore, but upon seeing the barista he had found himself stopping as his breath caught in his throat. The man had literally taken his breath away.  
  
The slender boy in the café didn't seem to notice Seonghwa as he peered in through the window, possibly because the glass was none too clean. The barista was busy washing the large espresso machine as an older woman in a truly frightful sweater appeared to be talking at him at a mile a minute. The orange-haired boy in the blue apron occasionally smiled and nodded politely to the older woman (Seonghwa wondered if she was the owner of the cramped little establishment) to show he was listening. Every time the slender man smiled, Seonghwa found his heart beating faster in admiration of the other boy's grace and charm.  
  
Seonghwa, in all his 24 years of life, had never seen such a beautiful man. And just like that, he fell instantly and madly in love. Over the next few weeks, whenever he had the chance, he would find an opportunity to walk by the café and quickly gaze in at the barista. But he never managed to gather the courage to cross the threshold of the store and go in and make an order. But despite his fear, he was desperate to talk to the other man, his stomach churning with want as he imagined sitting down across from the slender barista as he laughed his beautiful laugh (which Seonghwa had admittedly yet to hear).  
  
And so Seonghwa looked down again at his latest poem, tentatively titled “Sunrise.” As a well-trained literary expert who had been writing poems and short stories since he was a teenager (some of his poems had even been published recently in small literary magazines, most of them managed by Kang Editions), he knew his opening simile comparing his beloved to a morning sunrise was hopelessly derivative. And yet he was desperate to put into words the feelings that the orange-haired man instilled in his heart. He had a fantasy where he would write the perfect poem and pass it to the young barista, who would then fall madly in love with the taller black-haired boy due to the beauty of his words.  
  
Thirty minutes later, with no work having been done, Seonghwa suddenly realized what his "game plan" would be the next morning. He would go to the café, finish the poem, and leave it with the barista. It was the perfect strategy. Seonghwa was much more confident writing than speaking, and this method would play to his strengths. Besides, it seemed romantic and Seonghwa was a huge fan of big romantic gestures (not that he had made any himself, of course, but growing up addicted to dramas and rom-coms had led Seonghwa to become a bit of a sap for cheesy moves such as this).  
  
So the next morning, he shrugged on his old coat, threw his notebook, fountain pen and a handful of cash into his coat pockets, and smoothed his hair down to make sure he looked even a little bit presentable. As he exited his room, he grabbed his wallet and phone from the counter, checked to make sure his T-Money card was inside his pocket, and then turned to Yeosang who was sitting at their kitchen table, busy shoveling last night's leftovers into his mouth for breakfast. "If I fuck up, can I call you?" Seonghwa asked his best friend nervously.  
  
"You won't fuck up, hyung," Yeosang said with a modicum of affection. It seemed he had decided to be sweet today. He piled some more spicy pork and rice onto his spoon and then shot Seonghwa a big grin. "I'm rooting for you, hyung. Good luck." Yeosang then shoved the overloaded spoon into his mouth. "Fighting!" he called out through his mouthful of food as Seonghwa opened the door of their apartment and stepped out into the freezing corridor.   
  
After a nerve-wracking subway ride during which the tall black-haired boy pensively thought about his upcoming masterplan, Seonghwa soon found himself approaching the café. His stomach was churning with anxiety and his hands were sweating profusely. _Oh god, Park Seonghwa, why are you like this_? he mentally asked himself in exasperation; he had never been this nervous in his life, not even during basic training back in the military.   
  
The tall man rubbed his sweaty hands against his coat and looked ahead where he could see the café and its weird open sign with its horrifying cartoon teddy bear. Just then, as if the universe was pushing him to get moving, it started to snow fitfully, the temperature plummeting. Seonghwa's old tan coat was definitely not up to the task of keeping him adequately warm. _It's now or never_ , he thought to himself with a shake of his head to dislodge the snow settling in his hair. He then strode forward and opened the door of the café. _Dear lord in heaven_ , he prayed, _don't let me make a fool of myself_.   
  
As he entered the café, he gave the barista a small little smile. When the other man returned the grin right back to him, Seonghwa felt his cheeks get hot and he quickly looked away. Shuffling towards the counter, filled with nervous energy, he gave the café a quick look over and noticed that the place was empty. _Good_ , he thought to himself, _no one here to watch me make a complete ass out of myself_.  
  
Reaching the counter, Seonghwa stared down at his hands. He was so nervous to be standing directly in front of the man who had occupied all of his thoughts for the past few weeks that he felt he was going to throw up. Looking up quickly at the menu, Seonghwa breathlessly ordered what seemed to be the cheapest option, "An extra strong Americano, no sugar."  
  
"One extra strong Americano? That'll be 8000 won please," the blue-aproned man responded in a voice as sweet as a songbird's. If Seonghwa wasn't already a goner for the slender man, he would have fallen hard right then due to his honeyed voice. _Fuck, he's even prettier than I'd imagined_ , he groaned internally as he thrust his hands into one of the pockets of his coat to retrieve a 10,000 won note. _How in the name of fuck am I going to bring myself to talk to such a beautiful fucking guy_?  
  
Seonghwa handed over the cash without making eye contact with the other boy, who promptly rang up his order and handed Seonghwa back his change. _His hands are so small, so precious_ , the black-haired man pondered fondly as he sat himself at the only table by the café's window. He pulled out his notebook and began preparing to work on his poem for the boy, absently listening to the barista wrestle with the ancient espresso machine as he prepared Seonghwa's order.   
  
Knowing that the slender man was occupied, Seonghwa couldn't help but shoot him quick looks, taking in his beauty. With each passing minute, he knew that he would never muster the courage to speak to the man, let alone confess his feelings and ask him out. Seonghwa was already mentally preparing himself for the tongue-lashing Yeosang was going to give him when got home from his failed mission when the barista came over to his table and deposited his coffee, a receipt, and a napkin before him with a slight flourish.  
  
"Hope you enjoy!" the orange-haired angel chirped, eliciting a mumbled "um, th-thanks" from an increasingly panicked Seonghwa. _Real smooth, loser_.  
  
Over the next hour, Seonghwa tried desperately to work on his poem. But he was blocked, too nervous to write anything. So instead Seonghwa furtively watched the orange-haired object of his affections as he served what seemed to be a never-ending stream of dumpy ajummas, each chatting amicably to the barista (who appeared to be getting slightly frustrated with the old women's incessant questioning of him). No matter how hard he tried, Seonghwa was unable to add anything to the poem. Instead, he busied himself doodling random pictures of cute cats and dogs to keep his anxious mind distracted.  
  
Eventually, an hour later, the café was empty again. The angel in the blue beret and apron was standing behind the register not really doing anything productive (except smiling at Seonghwa, which the older boy didn't notice). Seonghwa began to feel defeated.  
  
_I can't do this_ , he thought sadly, _this is getting pathetic. I'll leave_...  
  
Just as he was about to get up and flee the café, Seonghwa heard a small voice speak up in the very back of his mind. _If you don't at least try something to connect with this man, you will regret it for the rest of your life. Never mind the misery that Yeosang will put you through if you leave now, worry about the fact that you will disappoint yourself. You're better than this Park Seonghwa._  
  
Seonghwa nodded to himself. He grabbed his pen and reached for the receipt, capitalizing on the rare flash of confidence flooding his body. _I'll write him a note_ , he thought to himself. _I'll tell him I found him too beautiful and was afraid to talk to him. I'll come back one day_. He already knew that Yeosang would force him to return after today’s failed attempt at contact. _I’ll ask him to buy me a drink as a sign he read the note_. Seonghwa quickly checked the menu to find a beverage that was the exact opposite of his order of a strong Americano. _Strawberry frappe_ , he decided, _that'll do_. He then dashed off a note on the back of the receipt, signing his name at the bottom.  
  
But then a shot of nerves overtook him once again. Another small voice inside his head, nastier than the first, began to whisper to him, telling him he was being ridiculous. _This just makes you look like a desperate loser_ , the voice murmured wickedly. Seonghwa, his panic reaching a fever pitch, screwed up his note and crammed it into a coat pocket.   
  
He then stood up and checked outside the window to ascertain whether the snow had lessened. It seemed to have stopped, so Seonghwa decided it was time to make his escape before he made a fool of himself in front of the handsome barista. He turned around and accidentally made eye contact with the other man, who quickly shot him a beatific grin. Seonghwa opened his mouth, intending to say a quick thank you and goodbye but soon the familiar panic filled his head, causing him to shake in fear. Without thinking what he was doing, Seonghwa thrust his hand back into his pocket and threw the note he had written back onto his table. He then swiftly ran out of the café, the voices in his head chiding him for being such a loser and leaving that sad little note after all.  
  
Seonghwa ran back to the subway station, his eyes stinging with hot tears that threatened to fall. "I am such a loser," he cried to himself, "such a fucking piece of shit that I can't even talk to a boy."   
  
As he passed a small convenience store near the subway, Seonghwa pulled out his notebook and flipped through it until he found the brief affirmation that a university counsellor had once asked him to write a few years back when Seonghwa had been particularly struggling with his mental health. _You are worthwhile and wonderful and deserve the world_ , the note said (it was written in Yeosang’s angular handwriting). _Yeah right_ , he thought to himself, _I don’t deserve shit_.  
  
As he walked to the station, reading the note to himself over and over again in an attempt to cheer himself up and fight off the darkness settling into his soul, Seonghwa accidentally bumped into an old woman who was walking along the path. He was too upset, however, to pay her any notice, and didn't hear her call after him demanding an apology. Instead, he fumbled around in one of the pockets of his coat until he had found his mobile. Without thinking, he dialed Yeosang's number as the snow once again began to fall around him.  
  
"Hyung, is everything okay? Did you chicken out?" Yeosang asked immediately after taking the call. "Of course you did, otherwise you wouldn't be calling me, would you?"  
  
"I-I'm sorry..."  
  
Yeosang sighed, "It's okay Seonghwa-hyung, it really is. I guess it's my fault for pushing you to do something that you weren't ready for. It's just... I worry about you so much sometimes, hyung. I worry that you'll go back to that dark place and I never want to see that happen to you ever again. It nearly killed me to watch you waste away like that."  
  
"I know... I'm s-sorry, Sangie... I'm sorry I'm so pathetic."  
  
"Stop that right now," Yeosang snapped. He then took a deep breath, and began again in a calmer, more soothing tone of voice. "You are not pathetic, Seonghwa-hyung. You are the best hyung in the world and I love you so, so much. You're an infuriating bastard sometimes, but I love you...” Yeosang chuckled lightly, “I love you more than I think you'll ever really understand."

Seonghwa ran his hands through his hair. No matter how much of a savage demon Yeosang could be, no matter how often he teased and berated Seonghwa, it was moments like this that reminded him why Yeosang was his best friend in the whole world.  
  
Just as Seonghwa was about to return Yeosang's affection and remind the younger man that he loved him to, that Yeosang was his favorite dongsaeng, something truly startling occurred. Out of nowhere, a beautiful, honeyed voice split through the frosty air.  
  
"Hey! Hey, Park Seonghwa-ssi!"  
  
Seonghwa spun around in surprise. Behind him, gasping for breath and looking slightly disheveled, stood the blue-aproned barista. Seonghwa gaped in complete astonishment, lowering his phone ("Hyung!? Seonghwa-hyung!? Where the fuck did you go!?"). The orange-haired angel then dashed through the snow swirling around the two young men to stand in front of the tall black-haired boy.  
  
The barista stared directly into his eyes with a look of fierce determination "Park Seonghwa-ssi! I… I don’t have a frappe but… please let’s talk! Please, I’m… my name is Kim Hongjoong and… and I’ve been waiting for you so long… so long, you have no idea."  
  
_Kim Hongjoong_ , Seonghwa thought to himself. The other man’s name, he deduced, meant "Centre of the whole wide world." _What a truly beautiful name... and completely fitting_ _such a beautiful boy_.  
  
Hongjoong stood before Seonghwa, looking up into the taller man's eyes as a pretty blush suffused his face. “I have no idea how you could have possibly thought I wouldn’t want to talk with you. How could I not? How could I ignore you after you came into that café and made my heart beat for the first time in forever?” _What?_ Seonghwa asked himself as his mouth fell open in surprise. “God, you must think I’m crazy but… Please, Seonghwa-ssi, let me take you to grab that frappe.”  
  
_I can't believe this is happening_ , Seonghwa thought as his heart exploded in happiness. _He... Kim Hongjoong wants to talk to me! He doesn't think I'm pathetic!_  
  
"I think… I think we have a lot… a lot to talk about.” Hongjoong finished his declaration, staring at Seonghwa with eyes sparkling with hope.  
  
Seonghwa quickly hung up his phone, making a mental note to apologize to Yeosang for ghosting on him later. And then he smiled as, for the first time in a long time, Seonghwa allowed himself to be truly happy.  
  
“I think I’d like that, yeah…” Seonghwa said, reaching out his hand to clasp the handsome barista's delicate one in his own. “I’m pleased to meet you, Kim Hongjoong-ssi."   
  
_It's now or never_ , he thought to himself, an unknown confidence spreading through his veins as he realized the man he had come to love truly seemed to be returning his interest.   
  
"Now, let’s go grab that drink?” Seonghwa asked, nodding towards a nearby coffee shop.  
  
Hongjoong's returning smile was like the sun rising in the middle of winter, warming the whole world with its bright light.  
  
“Yes, let’s,” he cheerfully replied, before allowing Seonghwa to take his hand in his own and lead him to the café for a long overdue conversation. _I wonder if he likes poetry_ , Seonghwa found himself wondering as both the young men began laughing with absolute joy.

 ~*~*~*~*~Today~*~*~*~*~

For some reason that neither Seonghwa nor Hongjoong had been able work out, Yeosang had decided to swing by their apartment that morning and join the two of them for breakfast. Naturally, he had neither texted the night before nor even called them prior to his arrival. Instead, Yeosang had begun banging on their apartment door (“how did he even get into the building, anyway?” Seonghwa had grumpily whispered to Hongjoong) and calling out to “his favorite hyungs” so that they would let him in.

After extricating himself from Hongjoong’s vice-like grip (naturally Yeosang had shown up just as the two were about to engage in their favorite Sunday activity, morning sex), Seonghwa threw on a Chelsea F.C. bathrobe that Wooyoung had forced upon him a few weeks ago to “stop Sanie wearing the damn thing in public.” He then padded over to the front door and opened it, giving Yeosang a particularly pissed-off once over before letting the younger man inside.

“Don’t you see enough of me at work, Sangie?” Seonghwa huffed. “Did you really need to come over and ruin my Sunday morning too?”

Yeosang rolled his eyes dramatically and then raised the plastic bag containing eggs, bacon, and packets of ramen he was holding in his right hand. “Look, I’ve brought you guys some food so why don’t you calm the fuck down and let me go and cook it.”

As Seonghwa led Yeosang into the kitchen, Hongjoong emerged from their bedroom rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Yeosang-ah, it’s nice to see you… been a while, huh?”

The long-haired man walked over and wrapped Yeosang up into a hug, “As always, thanks for taking such good care of my Seongseong for me.”

Yeosang shook his head and made a gagging noise. “You two really are the grossest couple in existence,” he lamented. “Every day of my life I regret having motivated Seonghwa-hyung to go and meet you Hongjoong-hyung…” Yeosang gave a long suffering sigh (which was designed, of course, to piss Seonghwa off). “If I hadn’t meddled and lit a fire under Seonghwa-hyung’s ass, I wouldn’t have to put up with your sickening domesticity all the time. I miss the days when Seonghwa-hyung just stayed in his room and wrote poetry all day.”

Seonghwa, emboldened by Hongjoong’s look of outrage, aggressively ruffled Yeosang’s hair in retaliation for his rudeness. “You know you love us Sangie. Don’t lie to your hyungs, okay?”

Batting the blonde’s hand away, Yeosang turned to give Seonghwa one of his most baleful looks. “Don’t fucking push it Seonghwa-hyung, or I’ll order you to help Jongho organize the back issues of the lesbian erotic at work tomorrow. Then you can help San and Wooyoung put together next month’s publication schedule.”

Knowing full well that his childhood friend and boss was just the right kind of sadist to make his life at work (even more of) a misery, Seonghwa strategically backed away to allow the younger man to go and prepare their breakfast. After Yeosang had entered the kitchen, Hongjoong gave Seonghwa a gentle pat on his ass, before heading back into the bedroom to freshen up. The older of three stood standing in the middle of their open plan living and dining space for a few moments, chewing his cheeks in exasperation, before heading into the kitchen to help Yeosang with the cooking. _Anything to get the demon out of our home faster_ , he rationalized.

In no time at all, the three men were sitting around Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s dining table, preparing to tuck into a large breakfast of ramen, kimchi, eggs, bacon, toast and cool glasses of the pulp-free orange juice that Hongjoong insisted that Seonghwa buy (“The other kind makes me want to hurl, Seongseong!”).

“So why exactly are you here, Yeosang-ah?” Hongjoong asked after piling eggs and bacon onto Seonghwa’s plate. He then began preparing his own breakfast after fondly watching his boyfriend tuck in. “It’s not like you to come and cook us breakfast without a reason. Did you need help with something?”

“Oh no, not at all!” Yeosang replied as he shoveled ramen into his mouth. _Some things never change_ , Seonghwa thought to himself as he watched his childhood friend’s poor table manners. After swallowing the massive amount of food in his mouth, Yeosang gave his two hyungs a cheeky little grin. “Actually this is a celebratory breakfast… we’re celebrating.”

Seonghwa ran his hand through his hair, sharing a look of exasperation with Hongjoong. _I could be bringing that beautiful man to the edge of heaven right now_ , he thought ruefully to himself. “And what exactly is it that we are celebrating, Yeosang? It’s none of our birthdays right now and it’s not like today is anything special.”

“Oh but today is a special day, Seonghwa-hyung,” Yeosang answered with feigned disinterest as he swallowed a whole fried egg in one gulp. “Because today is the day that you sign your book deal.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong sat there blinking momentarily as the news which Yeosang had brought them sunk in. Seonghwa then jumped up in confusion. “My what?” he mumbled as he swung his gaze to Hongjoong.

Yeosang smirked. “Congratulations, hyung! Dad decided that we’ll publish your debut novel in our new series. You know the book… the one you’ve been working on for the past four years?” Yeosang gave him one of his trademark shit-eating grins. “I’ve brought the author contract with me, but eat the eggs first before they get cold. They’re more important anyway.”

“I… I can’t believe this,” Seonghwa murmured as he felt tears of joy begin to cascade down his cheeks. “You’re going to publish my book?”

“Are you fucking deaf now, hyung?” Yeosang asked with a wicked smile.

Seonghwa shook his head madly, as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. As he prepared a retort to throw at his younger friend, he felt Hongjoong’s arms wrap around his waist and his boyfriend’s soft lips press kisses into the back of his neck. Seonghwa hadn’t even noticed that Hongjoong had gotten up from his seat as well. With a cry of joy, Seonghwa spun around and smashed his lips against Hongjoong’s in celebration. Meanwhile, Yeosang continued eating his eggs, eyeing the pot of ramen greedily.

Pulling back from their kiss, Hongjoong stared up at Seonghwa as his own eyes became misty with unshed tears of happiness. Having been with Seonghwa for as long as he had been writing the book (in fact, the book was inspired by their first meeting in the café), Hongjoong knew just how much this meant to his boyfriend.

"God, I love you Seongseong," Hongjoong whispered into his ear, kissing his neck lightly. “And I am so very, very proud of you.”

Seonghwa raised his hands to cup Hongjoong’s face, bestowing another soft kiss to his beloved angel’s sweet lips.

"I love you too Hongjoong-ah. So, so much."

In the background, Yeosang gagged. “You guys are worse than San and Wooyoung,” he muttered as he began to steal bacon from Seonghwa’s plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I challenged myself to include more dialogie, as this is something I am weak at. Typed this up on my phone and its unbeta'd so if you see any mistakes let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! And come and scream at me on twitter: https://twitter.com/USupremacist


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